


Hip End Lover

by cherryblur



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Blood and Violence, Corpses, M/M, Sexual Content, The Purge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 04:54:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18045872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryblur/pseuds/cherryblur
Summary: “Josh,” Tyler sings, swinging the bat back and forth like he was teasing him with it.“Know what time it is?”Josh hears the gunshots outside and smiles.





	Hip End Lover

**Author's Note:**

> purge babies like to purge

They’re laughing, cackling high in the air when the one trembling in his skeleton-printed hoodie drips blood all over their victims. 

He’s sneering, too tall and too weak for this type of work. He’s lanky.  
The one next to him leaves nothing for the imagination with bubblegum pink hair atop his head and black paint on his fingernails.

“Scared, Tyler?” He snickers to the skeleton boy, the barbed wire gouged into his baseball bat catching on some poor woman’s cardigan below his feet. 

Tyler cocks his head and grins ear to ear. “Nah, are you Josh?”  
He shows off sharpened canines and his hands shake, the blood congealing on them blending into the paint on his skin. 

Josh shakes his head and spits for effect when he smirks at the pale eyes watching them from afar. 

They’re showing off their bounty, a pile of bodies oozing and stinking up a road they know too well. 

Outsiders slink around them, cocking guns and slipping masks over their faces.  
Two scraggly little boys can’t be much of a fight, could they? 

Tyler sticks his tongue between his teeth and fingers the strap around his back. He always waits until the last minute. 

Josh licks his lips and tastes the flecks of blood still staining them. 

His foot rests triumphantly on top of their body count, boot probably squashing someone’s rotting skull.  
Blood gushes in streams down the street, emptying into storm drains and digging into the divots of the pavement.  
It smells like iron and flies don’t buzz in the winter air swirling around them. 

There’s got to be at least 30 nameless humans stacked lazily. 

“Something’s gotta give,” Tyler mutters, tracing over the zipper of the hood over his head. His eyes flick back and forth through the mesh holes. 

The fabric casts shadows over the scars littering his red-tinged cheeks. Josh thinks he looks like an angel. 

The white of his skeleton bones are stained, old and rusty with blood he didn’t care to name. Josh’s hands feel tacky in the fingerless gloves he wears. He’s not nervous. 

Someone finally takes a shot from the left and he throws a knife faster than their bullet. He hears a blind thud and Tyler giggles. 

“It’s no fun being all alone out here,” He pouts, feet squishing in the decaying flesh when he takes a few steps closer to the group of delinquents hiding in the shadows.  
They don’t know how to purge. 

“Isn’t that right, Josh?” 

Josh’s fingers twitch eagerly. He’ll use his bat when they’re closer, but the throwing knives perched in his belt wait impatiently to meet their targets. 

“Right as usual, Tyler. You wanna take the first shot?” One of the groups scrambles and steals the knife Josh threw into it. 

Tyler snorts. The shotgun slung over his back will wait. “I think I’ll let all our friends make their moves.” 

They wait. 

Josh steps over the pile of fuming corpses and holds Tyler’s sticky hands, presses his lips against his skin and eventually his mouth. 

Tyler’s fingers are twisted in Josh’s sleeveless shirt when he breaks them apart, the pistol in his back pocket firing off a round before Josh could register the moment. 

Someone slumps to the ground 8 feet away and the brunette scowls beneath the dim street lights. 

“Rude.” He states. 

Josh watches him trot off the pile, slick boots sliding off of wet slimy bodies. He’s in the middle of the road, much too far from Josh when he kicks the body laying upon the ground and fires a few more shots around him as a warning.  
Just to be sure. 

Josh picks at the peeling leather of his gloves, eyes dark and unnerving.  
Tyler rejoins him and slings an arm around his shoulder. 

“They’re scared, huh?” He croons, crooked teeth shining when he tips his head back and laughs. 

Josh nuzzles his cheek. “You’re just too terrifying, darlin’,” He drawls, the fumes from their body bounty rising above them like a fog. 

Tyler seems to purr and their hands stick together again. Whole again. 

They lead each other away, laughing like lovestruck teenagers because they know the gangs watching them will slink out from their hiding spots and see truly the mess they’ve left in the road. 

Tyler trips over his own feet and giggles, shoots into the sky and screams for blood. Josh kisses him hard and they find another house to raid. 

They’re in a nice neighborhood, one definitely fit for rich folk and celebrities alike. Such a shame they’ve almost all been ransacked. 

Josh picks a white one, tall and full of glass that’s already shattered halfway. 

The cowering man and woman hiding inside leave nothing for their imagination when Tyler puts bullets through the girls body and Josh slices the man. 

They’re both faceless afterwards courtesy of his baseball bat. 

They’re bored at this one, actually. Too vanilla. Too plain, not enough fighting back. Tyler snuffs and says they weren’t worth the ammo. Josh lets him lick the blood off his knives. 

And they’re off. Gone again, shielded in the night and cackling like hyenas at every kill they manage. Josh drags the two fresh bodies behind them with chains and rope, eager to add them to the pile. Tyler has a skip in his step. 

It’s only 10:00. 

They hear sirens, wails and cries and dance to the makeshift music, forms swinging and merging into each other while Tyler picks off stragglers with his pretty guns. 

It’s midnight when they sling helpless corpses onto their pile and observe the tell-tale signs that others have been at their base. 

“Too scared to come when we’re here, but they play when we’re gone?” Tyler clicks his tongue and kicks the machine gun shells scattered along their throne. Josh arranged the bodies with cold hands and snorts cold air. 

“Pussies. All of them.” 

Tyler stares at the watch on his wrist tick to 1:00 slowly. “We’ll wait.” 

And wait they do.  
They laugh, they talk, they kiss. Sometimes their bodies have minds of their own. 

Tyler’s huffing clouds of his own breath because they’re about to have sex on a pile of rotting corpses and he just can’t believe his luck. 

“Love you,” Josh coos and runs his dirty hands under the brunette’s hoodie. 

Tyler digs into his bottom lip with his teeth so hard the skin pops and blood bubbles into his mouth. “Just fuck me already, Josh, s’getting too cold.”

Josh says something about the body heat below them then flattens himself when they start to attack. 

Tyler’s up faster than he should be, half-dressed and frazzled but still blowing bullets quicker than his attackers because he’s _just that good_.

Random forms thud onto the ground and their faces squash against a mixture of blood and melted flesh soon to overtake their own. 

Josh is rolling off the pile and getting smeared in blood when he charges in close range. He gets a blade to the thigh and cracks some dude’s skull with his bat. 

He’d take the time to remove his face a little more formally, but there are other issues at hand. 

Tyler shucks off his guns when they run out of ammo. They stack below him and the one around his shoulders still won’t come into play. 

“Not yet,” He tells himself. Josh limps back and raises an eyebrow. Feels like he’ll never use that gun. 

“Gone?” 

Tyler nods. “Good time to attack, I’ll give them that. If only they weren’t so stupid about it.” 

Josh slumps down at his feet and yanks the knife from his thigh. He hisses and takes off his shirt to wrap the wound. Tyler stares. 

He drinks in battle scars and muscle and tattoos that create pretty nice images in his mind. 

“Take a picture while you’re at it,” Josh quips. 

“Might just do tha’,” Tyler blinks. 

They’re safe; still out in the open, but safe. Tyler forgives Josh’s clumsiness with a blowjob and he sits on his lap afterwards, teeth gnawing on his thumbnail. 

“Nice dick,” He chides. 

Josh licks his lips. “You’d know, feels like y’always sucking on it.” 

Tyler unwraps a piece of gum from his pocket. “Doesn’t taste the best, though.” 

He sticks his tongue out and blows a raspberry. Josh gropes his ass and laughs. 

Then he’s humping out a feeble orgasm on Josh’s hips, nails crushing the skin on his stomach. He’s loud and whiny and mean about it, really. He keeps hitting the gash in his thigh and doesn’t care. 

“Wow. Never thought I’d see a live performance from Tyler Joseph: professional pillow humper.” Josh deadpans. 

Tyler sticks a hand down the front of his jeans and spits on Josh. “I don’t hump pillows,” He grumbles. 

“Not what I heard last night.” 

That earns him two rough fingers in his thigh and he yowls, hands gripping Tyler’s waist so hard he feels he might break him. 

“Fuck off,” Tyler grinds his teeth and kisses him.  
It’s 3:30. 

It’s four hours until the sirens chime out, signaling the end of their reign.  
It’s four hours well spent. 

Murder, in its finest.  
“That’s so fucking hot,” Tyler will growl when Josh snaps fragile necks like toothpicks, beats innocent lives to a mushy, strawberry jam-filled pulp.  
He’ll hold Josh down with his thighs until they’re burning and chaffing and they’re both hissing in blissful pleasure underneath dirty neon lights. 

It’s cute, sometimes. 

Tyler kicks his feet while dangling off a bridge, a sucker perched in his mouth and a love song stuck on his lips. Josh feels he might push him off if he got any closer. 

It’s 6:59 when he decides not to. 

Josh walks unarmed a lot, peaceful and quiet. Tyler feels if he weren’t so in love he’d put a bullet through that head of pretty pink hair. 

It’s 6:59 when he decides not to, and 7:00 when the sirens ring and they kiss like it’s New Years.

**Author's Note:**

> this took too long to write


End file.
